Chapter 31: Pouting and Blowing Air

The door was knocked on once again.

"Jiang Mengnan?" Lu Yu’s voice drifted in from outside.

Jiang Mengnan looked toward the sound, her feet moving instinctively.

In her ear, Zhang Jingyan kept calling out, "Mengnan? Jiang Mengnan? Are you listening?"

For a moment, Jiang Mengnan was torn between opening the door and responding to Zhang Jingyan.

So, there was such a story behind the Cold Ice Sword. As for why it had turned black, it was likely due to the Corpse King. The old man had provided a reasonable explanation: the corpse miasma from the Corpse King had corroded the blade, and now that it had turned black, its power would be greatly diminished.

Wei Yan’s phoenix eyes narrowed slightly as she caught a strange scent in the air. Could it be that there was an inextricable and tangled history between Puyu Zi and Qing Xinyu?

In their private lives, they were inseparable friends; at work, Xiang Shaotong followed Duan Weihan’s orders with meticulous precision.

The old man frowned and said, "If there were only a few of you, I suppose I could squeeze you in, but with over a hundred people, my place isn't that large. With the Triad making so much trouble lately, no one wants to invite trouble." With that, he slammed the door shut with a loud clang.

At this moment, the old chieftain of the Wuli tribe knelt trembling before Huo Qubing, not daring to utter a single word. Huo Qubing, hands behind his back, looked around the interior of the round tent with curiosity; he had to admit that the Xiupu tribe was wealthy indeed, as this chieftain’s tent was the most luxurious he had seen in days.

Under Li Yuanhong’s command, the 93rd Division returned to normal operations, though the atmosphere within Jing County grew tense. First, the police brigade imposed martial law across the city and sealed all four gates. Then, supported by the security forces, they began a city-wide sweep. People of questionable backgrounds were continuously being rounded up.

Although both old men were quite wealthy, the thought of wasting so much grain and fodder for no reason made their hearts ache. More importantly, it would severely deplete their strength. Thus, this war was destined from the start to be short-lived, as neither Liu Bei nor Cao Cao could afford a war of attrition.

The young nobleman furrowed his brow, truly not expecting the other party to be a powerful clan that even his own grandfather dared not offend.

"Han Xiang, retreat!" Yi Chuan’s voice jolted Han Xiang out of her excitement. She looked at him with hesitation.

Duan Zhong hurriedly took the letters and opened them one by one. Su'er, Miss Liao Jiajia, Princess Suoyali, and even Miss Su Mei had each written a letter, all overflowing with longing. Duan Zhengjing, meanwhile, informed Duan Zhong that Zongzi had visited Cangshan twice during this period, and upon seeing that Duan Zhong was safe and sound, had returned to deliver the news.

Chu Xin was not concerned with whether he could find the Innate Supreme Treasure, the God-Slaying Spear, but rather with how much risk he would have to shoulder and what benefits he would reap once the deed was done.

The big man had been shoved head-first through the broken glass of the car window. His face was turning purple from the pressure, and his back and buttocks were covered in deep, bleeding gashes. Yang Yong was genuinely worried that if he didn't receive medical attention soon, the man would bleed to death.

This assassination attempt involved not only the noble families of Jizhou and martial arts sects but also the forces of foreign nations—yet, it was still not enough to catch Qin Hao's eye.

High above, the dragons began to notice the tortoise-shell formation on the ground. With sharp cries, they dove toward it, unleashing pillars of flame capable of melting steel.

Just as Liao Zhenbang was compromising with Bai Lang, Zhang Wuji ordered the attack to cease, calling off the pursuit of the retreating enemy.

That day, he was considering whether to write to his father to raise some silver so his cousin could come to Shanghai to open a factory, when his teacher and advisor, He Yangyuan, hurriedly pushed the door open.

The restless spirits shrieked and swirled in a frenzy. To these flies, who rarely even found rotting flesh to feed upon, the blood and flesh on Zhang Chao’s body were like a delicious cake—a supreme temptation.